


what's mine, is yours

by BSnows



Series: domestic clexa [1]
Category: The 100 (TV), clexa - Fandom
Genre: Clexa, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, The 100 Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BSnows/pseuds/BSnows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Lexa," Clarke sighs. "Did you use my waterproof eye liner?"</p><p>Lexa looks at her and sucks her lips into her mouth. Her eyes are big, she looks like a child that had just gotten caught.</p><p>"Maybe."</p><p>Or</p><p>Clexa being wifeys and doing stuff like Clarke helping Lexa rinse her war paint after a battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

That spacious bedroom always feels cold and boring when Lexa isn't there. At this time of the night, they would probably be playing games or meditating together, cuddling, talking about the universe and the stars while holding hands in bed or Lexa would be teaching Clarke some Trigedasleng and Clarke, as always, would get pissed off because she can't pronounce certain words and Lexa would kiss her face because Lexa believes she can do it.  
  
But Clarke gets even more pissed because she actually can't do it and Lexa ends with laughing a little bit.

Clarke looks around, trying to find something to distract her mind, but she fails on that. She looks down on the drawing on her lap. It's a drawing of Lexa sleeping. She traces the charcoal lines that forms her lips and smiles. Lexa is so cute, she pouts when she sleeps.

But her closed eyes in the picture triggers something in Clarke's brain.  
  
And it doesn't feel good.

Lexa promised she'd be back as soon as she could when she said goodbye and kissed her forehead. She knows she shouldn't be this worried, it's Lexa after all. But there's always that tiny chance of someone hurting her wife when she's gone to fight a battle.

Before her heart begins beating faster with horrific pictures in her mind, she hears someone knocks on the door.

 _Oh, thank God._  
  
Clarke breathes. She quickly gets up the chair and walks to the door to open it and the view of her girl standing there is beyond comforting. She has her war paint on her sweaty face and a scratch on her cheek, but, apparently, nothing more than that. 

A feeling of pride spreads in Clarke's chest and she smiles. They were _hundreds._ And still, there she is, her girl perfectly intact.

“Hi,” Lexa says after a shy smile curls her lips. Clarke immediately pulls her for a tight hug. "Your heart is beating fast, Clarke," Lexa gives a laugh. "I told you I would come home for you."

Clarke pulls away and looks at her.  
  
"I know," Clarke nods. "But-"  
  
Clarke opens her mouth, but no words are needed. Lexa notices it in her eyes.

"Shh. I will _always_ come back to you," she puts her hand on the back of Clarke's neck and tenderly presses their lips together. And it feels like she could fight a million battles if it all meant she could come back home to kiss Clarke.

Clarke puts her hand on Lexa's face to deepen the kiss, but Lexa pulls away at the exact moment her fingers touch her skin.  
  
"Oh, _fuck_ , your scratch," she says. "I'm sorry."  
  
Lexa smirks and raises an eyebrow to her.

She will never fully understand why sky people use the word " _fuck_ " to everything.

"It's ok, it doesn't hurt that much."  
  
"Oh, really?" Clarke rolls her eyes. "Let me touch it again then," she teases and Lexa's eyes widen at the same minute and she takes a step back. Clarke chuckles because Lexa is just too much of a dork. "Sit on the bed, let me clean that for you."  
  
Lexa slightly blushes and obeys, she sits on the edge of their king size bed, the posture of her back perfectly upright. Clarke takes a bowl with water and a piece of cloth that was on top of the wooden nightstand. She soaks the cloth with water and hands the bowl to Lexa. Lexa takes it and opens her legs to Clarke stand between them.  
  
"Head up, love." 

Lexa raises her head and closes her eyes, Clarke cradles her chin between her thumb and fingers. "We need to take off the war paint first."  
  
Clarke squeezes out the cloth's excess of water on the bowl and carefully scrubs off the black paint.

And it doesn't rinse off much at first try. She puts a little bit more of strength in it.

And nothing.

_For fucks sake._

"Lexa," Clarke sighs. "Did you use my waterproof eye liner?"

Lexa looks at her and sucks her lips into her mouth. Her eyes are big, she looks like a child that had just gotten caught.  
  
"Maybe."  
  
"Lexa!" 

"I'm sorry. That won't happen again it's just," she makes a pause. Clarke snorts and gets back trying to clean her face. "It's so much easier to apply."  
  
"And it's like hell to rinse it off," Clarke mumbles.  
  
Lexa closes her eyes again.  
  
"Clarke, you vowed."  
  
"What?"

"To treat your belongings as my own." Lexa has her eyes closed but she can feel that Clarke's doing that thing with her nose when she's pissed off. "And vice versa."  
  
Clarke stops scrubbing Lexa's face. It's almost completely clean.  
  
"That's the _third fucking time_ I ask you not to use _our_  eyeliner as war paint." Clarke says as she starts unbraiding Lexa's hair.   
  
Lexa takes Clarke's hand from her hair and holds it.   
  
"I'm sorry," she says and looks at her with puppy eyes. "I won't do that again, I promise."  
  
Clarke looks at her. Honestly, how could she resist?  
  
"Fine."  
  
Lexa shyly smiles.  
  
"Good," she says. She stands up and takes the red fabric out of her war clothing. Clarke observes her and raises an eyebrow. "Will you bathe with me?"  
  
Clarke smiles.  
  
Lexa's thirst after war is all she needs to forget about every little thing.   
  
And Lexa knows it.  
  
_Maybe_ Clarke won't mind if she tells her that she lost the eyeliner later.


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa was wrong.  
  
Lexa was _so_ sadly wrong.  
  
She leans her perfectly straightened back against the headboard of the bed and closes her eyes, taking a deep breath after that and just accepting the fact that Clarke's about to hate her for the rest of this night.  
  
_Patience. Patience is essential._  
  
They had just shared a loving and pleasant moment minutes ago when they were bathing together but now seems like Lexa is about to head to her second war battle of the day. If Lexa hadn't opened up her mouth to tell the truth when they were already cuddling in bed maybe she could be in peace now.  
  
She hears, with eyes still closed, as Clarke gets out of the bed and furiously walks around the bedroom. Lexa knows it is risky to not offer to help and meditate to reach composure instead, but honestly, when Clarke is angry like that there's absolutely nothing to do.

She remembers the day that Clarke found out her damaged sketchbook hidden under the bed. Of course, Lexa didn't ruin it on purpose, but Clarke felt so angry that she didn't tell her before that Clarke didn't talk to her for two whole days, which felt like an eternity to Lexa. She prefers fighting a thousand battles than to deal with Clarke's silence.  
  
It's even worse now, Lexa can tell that Clarke is about to enter that week of the month where she craves weird _skykru_  sweet foods and eventually yells at Lexa.

" _You're a bitch!_ " she hears as Clarke keeps searching her loved eyeliner somewhere on the couch. " _I have told you so many times!_ "  
  
Lexa inhales.  
  
" _So. Many. Fucking. Times!_ "  
  
Lexa exhales.  
  
" _Mount Weather wasn't enough, she had to lose my fucking eyeliner!"_  
  
"Clarke," Lexa's voice is peaceful when she speaks. Her eyes are still closed, but she can perfectly picture the image of Clarke looking mad at her in her mind. "I admit my mistakes, but we should solve it with maturity and-"  
  
_"Maturity my floated ass, if I don't find my eyeliner I'll kill you!"_

Lexa tries to avoid the fact that Clarke is mean and hurts her feelings sometimes, but it doesn't work and her heart aches. She will never fully understand why _skykru_ people values material objects too much, even over their loved ones. She will never understand why an eyeliner is that much of a big deal that Clarke feels the need of insulting her.  
  
Lexa hears something falling on the floor.  
  
_"Where is that fucker? Ahhhhhh."_  
  
The feeling of Clarke's hate towards Lexa hurts her heart more than a thousand bullets into her body. She thickly swallows and now she can confirm, more than ever, that maybe she's about to enter her special week of the month as well since a tear dropped from her closed eyes.  
  
She eagerly wipes the tear away and she accidentally touches her scratch on her face, making her flinch at the pain. She opens her eyes in confusion with her own thoughts and when she looks up, Clarke is standing there and looking at her with a concerned face.  
  
"Are you ok?" Clarke asks with a care of someone who wasn't wanting to kill her just seconds ago.  
  
"Yes," Lexa says.  
  
Clarke blinks a few times.  
  
"I know you," Clarke says as she approaches Lexa's side of the bed, Lexa instinctively turns her head to look to the other side, but it's too late to try to suppress any emotions now. Clarke knows her too much.  
  
"I know you too," Lexa says. Clarke climbs the bed and nestles beside Lexa, who's still pouting and looking away. "I'll just let you process your anger and then we can buy another tool of makeup of your choice if that's what you really want."  
  
Clarke wishes that there's another Ark lost in space and it could fall on her head right now. Maybe she had overreacted too much, maybe Lexa being overly sensitive is something to pay more attention to than to an eyeliner.  
  
"I want _you_ ," Clarke whispers. "And I have you. And that's all I need."  
  
Lexa looks at Clarke, whose lips curls into a sweet smile. They connect their lips in a tender kiss until Clarke pulls away to look at Lexa and wipe all the other tears that drop from her eyes.   
  
"I'm sorry," Lexa whispers.  
  
"I know."  
  
"Aren't you upset with me anymore?" Lexa asks so innocently and sweetly that Clarke feels like jumping over her and kissing her face a hundred times.  
  
"No," Clarke lightly shakes her head. She places a kiss on Lexa's cheek, who gently smiles. "I won't be mad at you because of stupid things anymore, I promise you."  
  
"Do you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
They get back to be the loving birds they are, cuddling in bed and Clarke, being the awesome big spoon she is, caressing the soft skin of Lexa's arm until she falls asleep. Clarke knows that she has the right to be mad, but Lexa's a lightweight and she would rather let that go than to deal with Lexa crying.   
  
Clarke gets lost in her own thoughts until she hears Lexa whisper.  
  
"Clarke, I lost your chamomile shampoo bottle too."  
  
Clarke takes a deep breath.  
  
_Patience. P_ _atience is essential._  
  
So. Fucking. Essential.

**Author's Note:**

> Finals are coming and here I am being clexa trash, as always ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> But I hope you liked it! I'm not a native speaker so I'm sorry if you found any random mistakes there, don't second guess to warn me, ok? Also, here's my new tumblr: loupagneau.tumblr.com. I post my fics there and reblog some clexa and random stuff.
> 
> Lots of love!


End file.
